Everyday Miracles
by MissTempleton
Summary: We return to spy on the inhabitants of 221B The Esplanade (and some extra characters from the Miss T canon) to see what magic might be wrought at this very special time of year. With best wishes to the fandom. Yours aye, Miss T.


**Everyday Miracles**

"Daddy, what do you think Nate wants for Christmas?"

The question was asked casually, Elizabeth thought. But then, it had been asked of Detective Chief Inspector Jack Robinson, who had been dealing with exactly that kind of studied nonchalance from the child's mother for several years; and the Honourable Phryne Fisher, while spectacularly superb in every imaginable way (or at least, he thought so and most of the sentient world agreed), had never quite lost her freight-train brand of subtlety.

Elizabeth, though barely able to read, had clearly studied her mother's Style Guide, and was lucky that Daddy had a sense of humour. Understanding full well that this was simply another chance to discuss the event dominating every toddler's horizon, he stopped stirring his breakfast coffee and pretended to ponder the question.

He glanced at the subject of the discussion, who was solemnly tearing a piece of toast apart. Nathaniel Ian Robinson brought this solemnity to most of his activities, which his sister found a bit dull, his father found unremarkable and his mother found as adorable as it had always been in the boy's father.

Visitors to the house were generally too polite to mention the contrast between exuberant Elizabeth and her introverted little brother; its residents, however, were the ones who had at one time or another seen him smile, and with that unique joy would merely shrug off those who were rude enough to suggest that little Nate was perhaps, in some way, _odd_.

"It's hard to tell," he admitted. "Looking at him right now, I think he mostly just wants the jam pot."

Elizabeth, mindful of the requirement to Be Good at this time of year, hastily pushed the pot over to the end of the table graced by the high chair, and Jack dabbed a judicious quantity of jam on the shreds of toast. The reward of one of those rare smiles was, he felt, several Christmases rolled into one and thanked all the potentially relevant deities (including Mrs Robinson) for the blessing.

Watching the process carefully, Elizabeth was clearly unsatisfied with the way the conversation was going. She had, in fact, decided that in order to be allowed the gift she wanted herself, she needed to demonstrate Selflessness. The huge book of fairy tales, illustrated throughout with fantastical and occasionally gruesome pictures, matched exactly her taste for the magical and horrible, and wasn't going to acquire itself without considerable help from The Authorities.

"Well," she said determinedly, "I think he wants …" she cast around for some vaguely attractive notion, "… he wants … a BICYCLE," she concluded triumphantly.

Jack pressed his lips together firmly, temporarily speechless; and it was lucky that Miss Fisher chose that moment to make her entrance.

It was one of her more understated efforts. She had managed to drag Jack out for some dancing the previous evening, on the excuse that a birthday needed to be suitably memorable. In her own case, she had also attempted to make it forgettable; perhaps that final bottle of champagne, which she had consumed without assistance from any third party, had been a mistake.

A woman of high standards, however, she was determined to show the moral fibre required to attend breakfast _en famille_ and sank into a chair, inhaling gratefully the aroma of the coffee placed quietly under her nose by her understanding, and rather more abstemious, spouse.

"A bicycle?" she murmured enquiringly. "Surely your father already has one?"

In truth, Jack had more than one – he having the same approach to bicycles that she did to hats, such that if _n_ was the number currently owned, _n+1_ was the required quantity.

"Not _Daddy_, Mumma!" exclaimed Elizabeth, with rather more decibels than Phryne thought strictly necessary. "Nate wants one."

Utterly at a loss, Phryne looked to Jack. He looked back at her with laughter brimming in his eyes, and grasped control of the conversation once more, thus making his inamorata that little bit more enamoured.

"Elizabeth, I'm sure he'd like _looking_ at a bicycle, but he's going to need to be steady on his own two feet before we can expect him to be steady on two wheels," he suggested gently. Inspiration struck. "If you've finished your egg, why don't you go and ask Mary Lou for some paper, and draw a picture of a bicycle that Nate might like to look at? See what he thinks of it?"

The notion was greeted with alacrity, and with the most fleeting of busses to the cheeks of those family members present, the most boisterous member of the family scampered off to demonstrate her thoughtfulness of others through the Medium of Art.

Phryne sighed with relief, sipped her coffee and ran an absent hand over Nate's hair. She met Jack's gaze again, and winced.

"Sorry."

He grinned. "Don't be. No-one needs to be at their best the day after their birthday." Having finished his coffee, he got up and walked round the table to lean down by her ear. "And you were certainly at your best for your birthday, for which I thank you."

He went to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head and presented her lips. He was appropriately gentle, she was appropriately warm, and Nate, having finished his toast, watched intently.

Eventually, Phryne sensed the audience and broke the kiss, turning to tip her head to the audience.

"What do you think, Nate?"

Nate's mouth opened, and he narrowed his eyes a little in concentration.

"Kiz", he opined.

Jack's hand on Phryne's shoulder tightened briefly, and he went to gather up the most observant and eloquent orator there present. Pressing a kiss to his son's temple, he shut his eyes for a moment to quell the inconvenient thrill of joy that would insist on returning, and said only, "Kiss. Quite right, lad."

Phryne held out her arms; taking on Nate in her delicate condition was a treat, not a challenge, and when the warm bundle was there deposited, she buried her face in his hair before raising shadowed but smiling eyes to Jack.

"As first words go, it takes some beating."

He nodded, and saluted them both before making a hasty departure for Melbourne's City South police station; the efficiency of Melbourne's Finest not yet being such that the criminals were prepared to arrest themselves.

That afternoon, after a sustaining cup of tea and feeling much more The Thing, the lady of the household braved the nursery, and found her visit had coincided with nap time. Her eye was caught, though, by an elaborate artwork propped on the mantelpiece. She picked it up, and cast an enquiring glance to the nurse, who relaxed in her favourite chair, knitting steadily. She smiled.

"Miss Elizabeth said Master Nate would like a black bicycle, ma'am, because he could ride it around in the night and nobody the wiser."

Phryne chuckled. "Master Nate won't be needing a bicycle for some time yet, but I'm rather grateful his sister chose bright red!" She replaced the picture, and thought no more about it until Christmas morning.

Because that was the day on which the picture disappeared.

Jack, Phryne, Mary Lou, Mr Butler and Lin Soo were all nonplussed. Each quietly asked the others what might have happened to it. As crimes went, it was unlikely to hit the front pages; but at the same time, it was _odd_. The fire hadn't been kindled in the fireplace for weeks, so the picture couldn't accidentally have been incinerated; and no work of art produced in Mary Lou's domain was ever allowed to disappear without careful decision making.

This was the day of the year, however, on which other matters took precedence. The whole family attended church, and there gathered in Phryne's Aunt Prudence and her cheerful husband Richard to return to The Esplanade for an expansive (in all senses) lunch.

After jokes, games and singing, the guests departed, and the household settled in for a quiet evening. Tobias and Soo withdrew to their own small sitting room, while Phryne stretched out on the sofa, accepting gratefully the champagne glass pressed into her hand by her equally exhausted spouse.

He had barely settled into his armchair, though, when there was a tentative tap on the drawing room door.

"Come in?" called Phryne.

Mary Lou's face appeared around the open door.

"Ma'am, sir, I'm terribly sorry to trouble you, and it's the silliest thing."

They were both sitting up straight. Mary Lou was not in the habit of troubling anyone over silly things.

"It's just …" the nurse hesitated, "I hadn't realised Master Nate had had another present. I didn't see where it came from, you see, and …"

There had been times when Elizabeth had been threatened because of her parents' occupations, and this had them both on their feet.

"Show me, please," said Jack abruptly. Mary Lou went a little pale, but led the way back to the nursery. There lay Nate, in his cot, gurgling cheerfully over a new toy.

A bicycle.

A perfectly crafted wooden bicycle, in black.

The wheels, built large and carefully planed to make sure no small fingers would be caught in the spindle, spun smooth and true. Nate pushed them with his fingers and watched, entranced, as they whirled around.

"Who …?" all the questions were on Phryne's lips, but Mary Lou shrugged.

"I really don't know, ma'am. When I came back from putting Miss Elizabeth to bed, he was wide awake and playing with it. It's not as though the nursery's a fortress, anyone in the house can come in. It seems safe, though? Can we let him keep it?" she asked hopefully. "He does seem to love it."

Jack stepped forward, and eased the toy from his son's fingers. Licking a finger, he ran it across the surface and gingerly tasted it. Shrugging, he gave it back.

"It's not paint, it must be dark wood. Ebony perhaps. I'm struggling to see how it could harm him."

Nate evidently agreed, reaching out with both chubby hands and a broad smile for his new Best Thing.

Thanking Mary Lou, Jack and Phryne turned for the door; they'd entered the room as concerned parents, they left it as mystified sleuths.

"No-one could have got into the house without us knowing, Jack," Phryne pointed out. "Mr B was at the back door, we were by the front. And anyway, who would break into a house to leave a child a toy?"

Jack admitted that his usual experience was for felons to remove things rather than leave them behind.

Eventually, as they shared a last whisky at the end of the day, they gave up. With no sign of ill will, it was difficult to justify a proper investigation.

"Perhaps we'll just have to call it Nate's personal Christmas miracle," said Jack resignedly. Phryne grinned, and raised her glass.

"Let's call it that," she said. "He's a pretty miraculous chap all by himself most days, anyway." She drained her whisky, and drifted across to where her husband was comfortably reclining in the opposite armchair. "Are you feeling miraculous, too, Jack?" she hinted wickedly.

He finished his own drink, placed the glass carefully down and dragged her swiftly on to his lap.

"Let's see, shall we?" he asked innocently. She giggled, and succumbed.

"Are you _sure_ they didn't see you, Richard?"

"Quite sure, Prudence dear."

"Then they'll have a lovely surprise – as though Father Christmas had sneaked down the chimney!"

"Perhaps in my younger days. I'll admit the more normal route up the stairs while you were fussing about coats was more fitting the dignity of my age."

"_Fussing?_ I never fuss!"

"No, dear. Your attention to detail is quite simply a gift all of its own. Thank you."

"Oh! Well, if you put it like that … it really has been a very happy Christmas, hasn't it, Richard?"

"Happier than I feel I deserve."

"Nonsense. You have wrought miracles for all of us, my dear. Thank you."

Elizabeth looked across the room at her little brother, who was sleeping peacefully, clutching his new bicycle to his chest. She smiled a secret smile, ran a loving hand over the embossed cover of the Best Fairy Tale Book Ever, and closed her eyes.


End file.
